Winn, trying to salvage control of the situation, strode forward and wrapped his arms lightly around his sister, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to her temple. "How are you feeling?" he asked gently, his eyes searching hers for any sign of fragility.
"I feel great," she said, her gaze sliding past him deliberately to Ivy, who tried to stand taller, even while half-hidden.
Sharona’s lips twitched into a grin. The scent of blood in the water electrified her. This was the opening she could definitely exploit. And from the way Ivy trembled, Sharona already knew the girl was fragile prey.
"After a seventy-two hour psych hold, I’m good. I just need a bath." Sylvia answered dryly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She masked the shadows under her eyes with a well-rehearsed air of nonchalance.
"Okay," Winn murmured. He held Sylvia gently by the arm, grounding her as he guided her forward. "You should be the first to hear this," he said. "This is Ivy."
Sylvia tilted her head, her eyes flicking to Ivy. "Yeah, I know her. Your secretary."
"I am guessing only for a few weeks more."
Sylvia’s brows shot up. She turned sharply to study his face. When she saw the way his lips curved, rare and boyish—her heart twisted. "No," she whispered, then louder, with dawning realization: "You didn’t."
"I did." His chest rose as if the weight of his responsibilities had lightened just by saying it out loud.
"And?" Sylvia pressed, needing to hear it laid bare.
"She said yes." Winn’s eyes shone when he said it.
Sylvia’s lips parted into a chuckle. A genuine laugh bubbled out. She smiled, her eyes shining with warmth. "Oh, congratulations, you two." The joy on her face was so radiant, it almost made Ivy’s knees weak.
Ivy took a tentative step closer. Her pulse raced. Her eyes darted toward Sharona instinctively. Sharona stood a few feet back, her lips curled in a dangerous smile. Ivy swallowed, forcing herself to face Sylvia again. "Thanks, I guess," she whispered.
Sylvia turned back to Winn. She wanted her brother to savour this moment. He deserved it—God, he deserved it.
But she also knew that sadness would soon carve itself across Winn’s beautiful face. And Ivy, sweet Ivy, would be caught in the crossfire.
***** The source of thɪs content is NoveI~Fire.net
Tom got wind of the engagement within the hour. He erupted. By the time he arrived at Winn’s home, his face was crimson. Sharona and Sylvia sat on the sofas. Winn had left earlier for work with his secretary-turned-fiancée in tow, leaving the women to watch Tom ignite.
"Useless! Useless! Both of you. The assignment was simple!" Tom thundered. His rage filled the living room.
"Mr. Kane," Sharona called. "I am not your child, neither am I your servant. You gave me a job, I encountered obstacles along the way. That doesn’t make me useless. I advise you watch your tone with me."
Sylvia, on the other hand, didn’t care. She sat slouched on the far end of the sofa, one arm draped lazily along the backrest. Her father’s rage was as familiar to her as her own reflection. She’d grown up on a steady diet of his scorn, and by now, it barely grazed her skin. She let his thunder roll past her ears, her mind drifting elsewhere.
"Who is this woman?" Tom spat finally. "Who is this lowlife he dares to parade?"
"All I know about her is that she’s Winn’s secretary. That’s all," Sylvia answered in a flat tone.
"I saw it anyway," Sharona hissed. "I just didn’t think your son would settle for a lowlife. I assumed he had more... exquisite taste. Looks like I was wrong. Never mind anyway. Inconsequentialities can be dealt with adequately." She wanted him to see her not as a failed pawn but as an ally capable of filthier games.
"Maybe I should take my deal to her," Tom muttered.
"Yeah, try that," Sylvia said quickly.
Tom’s gaze lingered on Sharona now. "Don’t get it twisted, Mr. Kane. I will still get paid. I haven’t been babysitting your spoiled princess, fetching her pills, pretending to give a damn about her fragile little feelings, just to walk away empty-handed. I always collect what’s mine. One way or another."
Tom sighed heavily, before dragging his eyes back to his daughter. The look he gave her was full of disappointment. Then, with a sharp turn of his heel, he walked out of the house, the slam of the door echoing.
Sharona stood immediately, slipping her sunglasses fully over her face. "Looks like you’re on your own now, princess." She adjusted her purse strap, as she moved toward the door. Just before stepping out, she twisted back with a smirk. "Try not to slit your wrists. It would ruin the sofa." And then she was gone.
Sylvia sank deeper into the cushions. Winn was happy—he was glowing in a way she had never seen him before. Truly, madly happy. She could still see it in his face, that unguarded joy. Could she really tear that down? Could she keep bleeding him with lies?
She sighed, her hand pressing against her temple. It was tough being a Kane. They were bred to win.
Later that evening, the office lights in the executive floor dimmed to a warm glow. "Hey, fiancée," he drawled.
Ivy looked up from her desk, cheeks warming instantly. "You can’t just say that at work," she whispered.
"Why not? Everyone’s going to know soon enough," he said, stepping inside and tugging her up by the wrist. His arms wrapped around her, his lips brushing her cheek in a kiss.
"Still feels weird," Ivy chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Everyone already thinks I slept my way to get this job back. Now, I wonder how they’ll spin this story."
He cupped her chin and tilted her face toward his, forcing her eyes to meet his. "Ignore them," he said. "They don’t get to write our story. We do." His thumb brushed the edge of her jaw. "Come on. I’ll drop you off at home."